About the book: Seven Little Australians was first published in 1894. It is a classic Australian children's novel written by Ethel Turner. It is set in Sydney's country, in the 1880s. It is about seven mischievous children from the Woolcot family. The novel explores the adventures the seven children take part in and there army father Captain Woolcot and irresponsible stepmother Esther. In 1994 the novel was announced the only book by an Australian author to have been continuously printed for 100 years. The book's original copy is held at The State Library of NSW. The original title of the novel was 'Seven Pickles'.
About the author: Ethel Mary Burwell was born in Doncaster, England on the 24th of January, 1870. Ethel had a blood sister called Lillian. Ethel's father died when she was just two years old. A year later her mother Sarah Jane Burwell married Henry Turner who was twenty years older then her and a widow with 6 sons. Sarah Jane changed both Lillian and Ethel's last names to Turner. Sarah had another child with Henry, a daughter named Rose. Henry Turner died suddenly and left Sarah with 9 kids, and no job to earn any income. In 1879 Sarah moved to Australia with Ethel, Lillian and Rose. Within a year she got married to Charles Cope. The following year in 1881 a son named Rex was born. Ethel Turner went to school, at Paddington Public School and Sydney Girls High School, where she was one of the first 30 students there. She started her writing career when she was eighteen. She wrote children's columns for the Sydney News and later for the Town Journal. In 1891, the family moved to Inglewood (now known as Woodlands). They lived in a large house, which was then out in the country. This is where she wrote the novel Seven Little Australians. In 1896 Ethel married a man named Herbert Curlewis, who was a lawyer. They built their own house in Mosman. She had a daughter named Jean Curlewis who died of tuberculosis (inflective disease in lungs) when she was twenty five years old. Jean Curlewis was also a writer. Some of Jean's novels include The Ship That Never Set Sail, Drowning Maze and Beach Beyond. Ethel Turner died at the age of 88 at Mosman on 8 April 1958. She was buried at Macquarie Park Cemetery in Sydney's North.
Settings:
Set in the country, in Sydney, in the 1880's.
Next to the Parramatta river.
Toongabbie (Aboriginal meaning: Place by the water) (29km from Sydney CBD)
Woolcot's family home:
"There was a big wilderness of a garden, two or three paddocks, numberless sheds for hide-and-seek, and, best of all, the water."
They have three "beautiful" horses.
"They went a shortcut through the bush to avoid the public road, and the blue, sun-kissed, laughing river stretched before them."
Eating fowl and mutton for dinner at one o'clock.
Esther' Home in Yarrahappini:
"It was fifteen minutes before they even saw the chimneys, then there was another gate to be opened. A gravel drive now, trimly kept, high box round the flower beds, a wilderness of rose bushes that pleased Meg's eyes, two chip tennis-courts under water."
"The verandah was all they noticed; such a wide one it was, as wide as an ordinary room, and there were lounges, and chairs, and tables scattered about, hammocks swung from the corners, and a green thick creeper with rain blown wistaria for an outer wall."
Character List: Meg (Margaret) Age 16:
"Wise, romantic" eldest sister and sometimes acts as the mother to the younger children.
"She had a long, fair plait that Bunty used to delight in pulling."
"...a sweet, rather dreamy face, and a powdering of pretty freckles that occasioned her much tribulation of spirit."
She writes poems and stories and has a hidden diary locked away in her old tin hat-box.
"Meg was naturally fresh-minded"
Best friend: Aldith MacCarthy
She falls in love with a man named Alan Courtney ("He was very tall and broad-shouldered, and not at all god looking. He had a strong, plain face, grey eyes deeply set, and brown hair that looked as if he was in a constant state of rumpling it in the wrong way). "Meg used secretly to think how manly he looked..."
Alan's younger brother, Andrew was in love with Meg. Andrew had "speaking eyes, and curls that made his forehead like the rising sun." "He gave her tender glances and gave her conversation peppermints that said 'My heart is thine'".
Pip (Philip) Age 14:
Eldest brother
"Handsome"
"Intelligent but badly-behaved"
"Extremely determined."
"He was the only child that Captain would ever take out with him."
"Captain was very proud of Pip and expected great things to come from him."
Judy (Helen) Age 13:
"Imaginative and lively."
"Judy was like a little mad thing."
"Very thin...she had small, eager, freckled face, with very bright dark eyes, a small determined mouth, and a mane of untidy, curly dark hair that was the trial of her life."
"Pip's 'partner-in-crime"
Often leads the others into mischief.
"..greatest contrast imaginable."
"...she was the worst of the seven, probably because she was the cleverest. Her brilliant inventive powers plunged them all into ceaseless scrape, and though she often bore the the brunt of the blame with equanimity."
"Judy always mystified [captain]. He understood her the least of any of his children, and sometimes the thought of her worried him. At present she was only a sharp, clever, and frequently impertinent child; but he felt she was utterly different from the other six..."
"That restless fire of hers that shone out of her dancing eyes, and glowed scarlet on her cheeks in excitement, and lent amazing energy and activity to her young, lithe body..."
(Meg speaking) "... that young person was too downright, too sensible, too much of a child and a boy."
Nickname: 'Fizz'.
Nellie (Elinor) Age 10:
"Beautiful and a slightly wistful child."
"The 'show' Woolcot"
"..little fairy-like figure"
"gold hair clustering in wonderful waves"
"soft hazel eyes.
Bunty (John) Age 6:
"Fat and very lazy.... rather small."
"I don't think he had ever been seen with a clean face."
"Greedy"
"...contemptible young cur."
"Dirty-faced"
"Heavy-hearted"
"He was a sight to dream of, not to tell"
"Pip said he is a coward, and had not the moral courage to go to sleep with a lie on his soul, for fear he might wake up and see an angel with a fiery sword standing by his bedside."
(Captain speaking) "He is an untruthful little vagabond; I am ashamed to own him for my son."
Baby (Winifred) Age4:
"The most well-behaved of the lot"
She was only a baby when her mother died.
"A little soft fat thing"
'The General' (Francis Rupert Burnand):
He is the youngest baby.
He is the only child of Esther, who is stepmother to the other children.
Captain Woolcot (John):
"A military man"
"He did not understand children at all, and was always grumbling at the noise they make and the money they cost."
"He was rather proud of Pip."
"He says [the seven children] they are the untidiest, most unruly lot of children in Sydney."
He says he has "exasperating children".
Esther Woolcot:
Captain Woolcot's second wife.
Mother of Francis (The general).
Only 20 years old.
Maden name: Hassal
Wikilossary:
Afther: Irish way of saying After.
Pelisse: A long coat, usually lined with fur.
Morsel: A bite, mouthful, small portion of food.
Curate: To take charge of, to pull together.
Elicit: A reaction, answer, or fact from someone.
Amenable: aggreeable
Loathed: detested
Conceited:vain, proud
Seldom: not often
Effervesced: fizzed, bubbled
Bore: either a water-pump artesian source or a dull person
Vestige:trace, tiny amount
Magnanimous:generous, forgiving
Coax: encourage, tempt
Beseech: plead
Wheedle: beg in a whiny way
Pantomime: A performance, usually a musical.
Don:wear (as in clothes!)
Bonbonniere:lolly treat
Heinousness:evil
Stentorian:loud, authoritative (as in voice)
Dilapidation: shabby, ruined (as in an old building
Paroxysm: spasm - as in cough
Boorishness: stupid and insensitive
Bodices: part of a dress that covers the torso
Lynx-eyed: Keen sighted.
Dowdy:plain and dull dress
Oracle: prediction (as in fortune-teller)
Beguiled: seduced
Embonpoint: kind of needlepoint that ladies used to pass the time with
Thine: 'yours' - old-fashioned expression
Scorn: a put-down, or sneering expression or words
Amiable:friendly
Enthralling: thrilling
Anguish: distress (emotional)
Jonquils: type of flower
Herein: in here (archaic expression)
Tutelage: teaching
Equivocation: - can't make mind up
Benzine: - petrol
Ulster: kind of scarf
Qualms: - fears, anxieties about something
Melancholy: sadness
Croup: bad cough (babies)
Rheumatism: ache of limbs and hands, brought on by cold weather, often
Avowal: promise
Vituperation: insults, criticism
Portmanteau: suitcase
Sullen:scowly, gloomy, bad-moodish
Peccadilloes: likes, favourites
Hitherto: before now
Chasms: deep crevasses
Regal: royal
Coronet: crown
Harum-scarum: scruffy, rowdy (as of young boys)
Mulcted:
Litanies: praise or prayer
Sermons: preaching in a church (or by a stern parent)
Occult: of the devil/Satan or superstition
Faix:?
Vexedly: worriedly
Zeal: enthusiasm
Latter: the last one (of a group or option)
Woe-begone: sad, downcast
Thwart: prevent (someone's plan)
Perilous: dangerous
Languor: apathy, tiredness
Wistaria: a kind of purple-flowered creeper
Sojourn: trip or journey
Gossamer:very thin or web-like
Mackintosh: raincoat
Portmanteaus: suitcases
Vagabond: A carefree, worthless or irresponsible person, rogue.
Words that have changed (or are used differently) over time:
Frock: Dress
Pupils: People
Gay: Happy
Wee: Little
Lank: Long, skinny, thin
Farther: Further, longer distance.
Thus: Therefore, leading to...
Scythe: Very sharp, curved blade used to cut the grass.
"He reached home as tired as 'a dozen dogs and a dingo'." ???
Quotes: "Oh, don't the days seem lank and long. When all goes right and nothing goes wrong; And isn't your life extremely flat. With nothing whatever to grumble at?"
"The world has a beautiful frown of its own, and an endless vocabulary of cold words."
5-Question Interview: Meg 1. Do you feel you are obliged to act as the mother of the young children? Yes and No. I do in some way believe my parents expect me to look after them; after all I am the oldest and the most mature. Although I do care about them all and love them very much so I am more than happy to look after them and protect them.
2. Why do you keep your poems/stories and your diary hidden in a locked tin? They are my personal belongings therefore I have the right to put them wherever I like. Our family is very open and sharing and I like to think my diary and my poems are all my own. If I am feeling upset my poems are my closer and I express my anger and my feelings throughout them in a way I only would understand.
3. Do you ever feel you are trapped in your own house and always stuck with your six younger siblings? No, most definitely not. I spend a lot of time outside, looking after our garden and playing hide-and-seek with the children.
4.Why do you love Alan Courtney when everyone describes him as not a very nice person? There is just something about Alan that really draws my attention. He is just such a mysterious person and I am intrigued to find out more about him.
5. When Alan met with you and told you that he thinks Aldith MacCarthy isn't a nice person and a bad influence to you, how did this make you feel? I guess it hurt a bit. Having someone tell me that they don't like me because of the people I hang out with. Although in a way it actually made me a better person, as it made me realise that maybe she wasn't such a good friend after all. I think I didn't notice anything as I was secretly quite jealous of her. She is such a beautiful looking lady and draws all the boys attention I just envied her a little.
5 Facts: 1. The seven children and Esther all stop at Curlewis station on their way to Yarrahappini to visit Esther's parents. Curlewis was the name of Ethel's husband who she had a daughter with named Jean. 2. The first copy of the book ever published was named 'Seven Pickles'. 3. The original copy is held at at the State Library of NSW. 4. There are three sequels to the book; Little Mother Meg, Judy and Punch and The Family at Misrule. 5. Ethel Turner made sure when she wrote the book that not one of the seven children were perfect in any way, as she said purely because no young Australian child ever is nor ever will be.
Another Day Of Mourning - Creative Story After the death of poor young Judy, the six of them went home again. The thick air of Yarrahappini seemed to crush them and hang heavy on their souls. So when the Captain, who had hurried to see the last of his poor little girl, asked if they would like to go home, they all said "Yes."
There was a green space of grass on a hilltop, behind the cottage, and a clump of wattle trees; this is where they left little Judy. Meg was glad the little mound looked to the east; where the sun died behind it, the orange, yellow and purple sun she could not bear to watch ever again while she lived. There was a moon, making it white and beautiful when they said goodbye to her on their last day. They picked a blade or two of fresh grass, and turned away. Nobody cried; the stillness of the moon held back their tears till they had closed the little gate behind them, and left her alone, on the quiet hilltop. They went back to Misrule, each to pickup the thread of life, and go on with the journey ahead.
This journey ahead was not at all the same since young Judy was no longer around. All the children were devastated, and Captain didn’t ever leave his room since. He just sat there, staring out the window. Pip especially, had the most trouble processing it all. He was very angry with Captain and was putting the blame on him. Poor Esther didn’t know how to act. She had just been frantically running around keeping the house clean. Not because the house was at all messy, just to keep her mind off everything. And not to forget The General, who had been constantly whining and spitting out words along the lines of “Wen Jdy hom?”
Everyone had been separate, away in his or her own private spot, thinking all day, of course about poor Judy. The only time the family ever ought to come together at once is when they ate their tea at the dining table. But even then it was as silent as a dead cave thousands of meters underground. Everybody’s mind was wracked with thoughts. Everyone had a very different way of grieving; especially in the Misrule household.
Other than the fact that the family was devastated, all else was well. Alan Courtney had been coming frequently to the house to see Meg, to comfort her after her young sisters passing. He being there, and caring so much, flattered Meg, as her crush on him had not at all faded. Though she was pushing him away. She said to the young man, “I could never get into a relationship at this present time. Not after what has happened to young Judy. I have to be with my family right now.” Young Alan, who was actually three years older than Meg, took in what Meg said, and had not been visiting as much.
Meg mentioned that she had to be with her family right now, which she had most certainly not been doing. She had been sitting in her armchair in her lonesome room, which was now all hers, seeing her sister is gone. She felt a sense of guilt, as when Judy was around Meg used to constantly whinge about sharing a room with her younger sister, and the fact that she was the oldest and most mature, in which case she deserved a room all to herself. Now she had finally got what she wanted and regretted it immensely.
The day of young Judy’s funeral had finally arrived. The day that the family was forced to come together, that is, out of their hibernation of course. The morning was as dreadful as any other. The family united at the table to eat breakfast, though this breakfast was far from ordinary. The six children sat there in silence, grieving. After breakfast Esther helped all the children get dressed for the service. Pip and Bunty wore suits with pale blue ties and Nellie and Meg wore beautiful blue frocks. They wore blue, as it was indeed young Judy’s favorite colour.
As the dogcarts arrived outside Misrule, the family made their way to the gate. Captain, Pip, Bunty and Baby were escorted into one; Esther, Meg, Nellie and The General in the other. Then away into the dawn they went.
The trip took 0ver 4 hours. Though throughout this long time, not one child said a word.
When they arrived at the church, hundreds of people were there staring at the distressed family. The General broke out into tears, so Esther took him away to settle. The family made their way into the church and sat awkwardly waiting for the service to start.
Nellie and Meg sat next to each other, with their hands clenched together ever-so-tightly. Aldith was a few pews away, smiling coquettish glances across to the Courtney’s pew. Meg had grown so far away from her! It seemed years since she had seen her!
Alan looked at Meg from his pew: the broad figure in its black suit, the shining hair hanging, no longer frizzed at the end, the sadness of those enormous blue eyes. He clasped her hand when the service was over; his eyes, with ever-so-slight-tears in them, made up for the clumsy stumbling words of sympathy, he tried to speak.
"Let us be friends, always, Miss Meg," he said, as they parted at the Misrule gate. "Yes, let us," said Meg. “And Alan – perhaps, in time, more?” And the firm handshake, after time, did indeed become a beautiful thing in both their lives, strengthening Meg, and making the boy gentler.
Pip became his laughing, high-spirited self again; although he used to get sudden fits of depression at times, and disappear all at once, in to a game of cricket or football, or from the table when the noise was high.
Bunty stayed his usual self, but did not tell quite so many stories these days; whenever he felt inclined to say, "I never, 'twasn't me, 'twasn't my fault," the thought of his beautiful sister came to his mind.
Baby, Nell and The General, all seemed to grow bigger every day, staying their usual happy selves.
The Captain never smoked at the end of the side veranda now; the overgrown lawn made him always see, a little figure in a pink frock mowing the grass in the blazing sunlight. Judy's death made his six children dearer to his heart, though he showed his affection very little more.
Script - After Judy's death Setting: Captain Woolcot and Esther are sitting outside on a small bench by the Parramatta River. The sun is shining, however not reaching them as the bench is in front of a thick forest-like garden. There are small weeds that have grown around the chair, this making it look quite old and weak. There are birds chirping in the tree above them. The two are looking out to the distance; although they are not speaking, they know exactly what each other are thinking. A figure is walking toward them from the distance. They make the figure out to be a man, tall, broad, wearing a suit. As he approaches they sit more upright in their seats. He is an obituary writer from the Daily Telegraph.
Esther: Good morning sir. How might you be on this beautiful day?
Writer: Very well, thank you. How could you not be when the birds are chirping, the Parramatta river is flowing and the sun is shining. [Glances at Esther] How are you Mrs Woolcot?
Captain: [Esther opens her mouth to speak, then Captain cuts her off] I don’t intend to be rude, but what business do you have being on my premises?
Writer: [threatened] Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. My name is Martin Perry. [Martin pauses, then stumbles on his words leading into next sentence] I-I-I am a writer from the Daily Telegraph. I am here to write an obituary on young Judy. What a terrible loss it was. All my condolences are with you.
Esther: Yes, indeed it was, and still is a tragic event. The loss of our dear young Judy will leave a scar on our family for as long as we live.
[Pause. Esther looks down, hiding her emotions]
Captain: Well, if we must do this obituary; let’s get on with it. Quickly, before Esther becomes too emotional. [Esther glances at Captain in dismay, then looks at writer]
Writer: Yes, of course sir. Just before I start, may I ask that you please answer honestly? I only say this in your respect, as I do not want false information published.
Captain: [Snappy] And why do you think we would lie? She was our daughter and dear to our hearts. If you do not trust us to be truthful you may leave now.
Writer: [Stumbles on his words] Oh, I-I’m so sorry, I mean not to offend you. It is just protocol to state that before an interview. I trust you completely.
Esther: Needn’t worry. John has been quite snappy lately. We know you mean well. Shall we continue with the interview?
Writer: Yes, of course. May I start off by asking, how exactly did young Judy pass?
Captain: A tree fell on her. She died a while later.
Esther: [glances at Captain] We were at my parent’s home, in Yarrahappini. The children had left in the early hours of the morning with Mr. Gillet. They were going horse riding. I didn’t hear from them all day. Later I saw Pip running towards the house screaming. I was told young Judy was crushed by a tree. [Looks down]
Writer: Thank you, Mrs Woolcot. May I ask another question?
Captain: [frustrated] Hurry up will you. What is it that you must ask?
Writer: Do you think Judy’s illness before her passing contributed to her lack of strength once being crushed by the tree?
Esther: What a cruel question! Judy was fully recovered when I allowed her to travel to Yarrahappini, and in no way would I have allowed her out that morning if she was still weak.
Captain: [interrupting] No, her illness could not have, not unless the doctor was lying to us about her state. She was a healthy young girl who could not have fought the circumstance.
Writer: Thank you. Furthermore, how do you think Judy will be remembered in the Misrule?
Esther: Obviously through her belongings, her room, her photos, the objects of which she touched. This house in itself holds many memories and stories of which made up almost her whole life.
[pause]
Captain: I can still picture her just over there [glances over to in front of the verandah, the lawn] I had just punished the children and forbidden them from going to the Pantomime. So they all came together and decided to complete odd jobs to hopefully get on my good side. Judy decided to cut the lawn, I can still picture it. [smiles] The scythe was too heavy for her little, delicate body, so despite her efforts she was creating more damage to the flowers than to the lawn. I couldn’t help but smile, but then had to stop her because it was becoming unsafe.
Writer: Thank you. Is there anything specific that you would you like me to include in the obituary?
Esther: Write that she was a beautiful young girl, and write that she was too young, this shouldn’t of happened to her. [Looks to ground and eyes become watery]
Captain: [Glances at Esther, realizing she cannot continue] Despite all this misbehavior, she was beautiful and meant well. Even though she did aggravate me, now that she is gone I wish I had gotten to know her better. [Pauses] You know what, I think this interview is finished.
Esther: John. [Glances at captain]
Captain: No Esther. He has gotten enough information and may now leave. Would you like me to show you to the gate?
Writer: [intimidated] No. That won’t be necessary sir. I am very sorry if I have offended you. Have a nice day. Oh, and thank you for the interview. I will do my best in writing this to the standard you deserve. [Starts to walk away]
Esther: [subtly] Your welcome.
The Scarlet Pimpernel - Creative Story As I entered the outskirts of the castle, a million thoughts and shivers rushed through my body. It was a completely different surrounding to what I am use to. I don’t even know why I am coming here today. Mum said something about how she wanted me to watch the prisoners get executed; she thought it would be good for me to see. Me on the other hand am not so keen. I don’t understand how anyone could enjoy watching innocent people be killed in such an inhumane way. How could anyone be so excited and keen to watch such a horrific thing?
It is a brighter day than usual, but still cold and frosty as always on a winter day here in Paris. Mum and I walked through the large archway, soldiers watching us as we enter. The castle is so beautiful. It is made from large brick or concrete slabs, and on the wall is a large clock ticking loudly. We walk towards a large group of people, all crowded around a guillotine, and I am thinking maybe it is not so beautiful after all. I was hesitant to hold back and tell mum I wanted to go home, but she pushed through the crowd to get to the front. After standing for a few minutes I noticed a sensational smell of food coming from a near distance. I think it might have been pork, or possibly horse or mutton. I’m not sure but it definitely made me hungry. It is quite an early morning for me, so I have not yet had breakfast. I held my arms on each side as most people do when they are cold. Mum pulled me close to her to keep me warm. I felt the warmth from her body instantly rush through mine. Mum and I are very close; we have lived together on our own since I was three years old, after my dad died.
I heard the noise of the horse’s hooves hitting the cold concrete ground. I knew who was coming; the prisoners, on their journey to death. A horse pulling a tumbril pulled up right next to the guillotine. Three soldiers wearing red, white and black uniforms came from the crowd and grabbed a man and brutally pulled him from the tumbril I saw the look on his face; lost and depressed, as though all hope had been sucked out of him. The same way mine would like if I were in his position. His head was forced into the holder ready for the guillotine to drop down and take his life away. I had to look away. But the noise still blows through my eardrums. A soldier holds the innocent mans head up high, dripping with blood, and shouts, “Long live the republic!” and “Death to the aristos!” I don’t really understand what that means but I look like I pretend I do, so I don’t get in trouble. The crowd is shouting and holding their fists high in the air with excitement, including mum. I wonder to myself; how can she enjoy this? My own mother. Doesn’t she have a heart? Doesn’t anyone here? Or is everyone here just a bunch of insensitive, cold-blooded monsters? Another person is tugged out of the tumbril, this time a lady. Once again I look away but I notice someone behind me eying me off suspiciously. I turn back around and pretend I am enjoying watching this murder.
The smell of blood rushes up my nose making me feel sick. I ask mum if I can go and get a drink but she can’t hear me over the loud drums and voices screaming. Under my feet I can feel the blood flowing down towards the drain. There is so much of it, everywhere, especially in the basket filled with hay. I wonder to myself why hay? What are they cows?
I feel a sense of freedom and guilt for the fact that I’m here watching them die as they’re watching me; seeing how free I am. I want to stop this and apologize to them. The fact that they are being killed is bad enough, but being killed as part of a ‘show’ for an audience is disgustingly wrong. No human ever deserves to die this way.
About the book:
Seven Little Australians was first published in 1894. It is a classic Australian children's novel written by Ethel Turner. It is set in Sydney's country, in the 1880s. It is about seven mischievous children from the Woolcot family. The novel explores the adventures the seven children take part in and there army father Captain Woolcot and irresponsible stepmother Esther. In 1994 the novel was announced the only book by an Australian author to have been continuously printed for 100 years. The book's original copy is held at The State Library of NSW. The original title of the novel was 'Seven Pickles'.
About the author:
Ethel Mary Burwell was born in Doncaster, England on the 24th of January, 1870. Ethel had a blood sister called Lillian. Ethel's father died when she was just two years old. A year later her mother Sarah Jane Burwell married Henry Turner who was twenty years older then her and a widow with 6 sons. Sarah Jane changed both Lillian and Ethel's last names to Turner. Sarah had another child with Henry, a daughter named Rose. Henry Turner died suddenly and left Sarah with 9 kids, and no job to earn any income. In 1879 Sarah moved to Australia with Ethel, Lillian and Rose. Within a year she got married to Charles Cope. The following year in 1881 a son named Rex was born. Ethel Turner went to school, at Paddington Public School and Sydney Girls High School, where she was one of the first 30 students there. She started her writing career when she was eighteen. She wrote children's columns for the Sydney News and later for the Town Journal. In 1891, the family moved to Inglewood (now known as Woodlands). They lived in a large house, which was then out in the country. This is where she wrote the novel Seven Little Australians. In 1896 Ethel married a man named Herbert Curlewis, who was a lawyer. They built their own house in Mosman. She had a daughter named Jean Curlewis who died of tuberculosis (inflective disease in lungs) when she was twenty five years old. Jean Curlewis was also a writer. Some of Jean's novels include The Ship That Never Set Sail, Drowning Maze and Beach Beyond. Ethel Turner died at the age of 88 at Mosman on 8 April 1958. She was buried at Macquarie Park Cemetery in Sydney's North.
Settings:
Woolcot's family home:
Esther' Home in Yarrahappini:
Character List:
Meg (Margaret) Age 16:
Pip (Philip) Age 14:
Judy (Helen) Age 13:
Nellie (Elinor) Age 10:
Bunty (John) Age 6:
Baby (Winifred) Age 4:
'The General' (Francis Rupert Burnand):
Captain Woolcot (John):
Esther Woolcot:
Wikilossary:
Words that have changed (or are used differently) over time:
"He reached home as tired as 'a dozen dogs and a dingo'." ???
Quotes:
"Oh, don't the days seem lank and long.
When all goes right and nothing goes wrong;
And isn't your life extremely flat.
With nothing whatever to grumble at?"
"The world has a beautiful frown of its own, and an endless vocabulary of cold words."
5-Question Interview: Meg
1. Do you feel you are obliged to act as the mother of the young children?
Yes and No. I do in some way believe my parents expect me to look after them; after all I am the oldest and the most mature. Although I do care about them all and love them very much so I am more than happy to look after them and protect them.
2. Why do you keep your poems/stories and your diary hidden in a locked tin?
They are my personal belongings therefore I have the right to put them wherever I like. Our family is very open and sharing and I like to think my diary and my poems are all my own. If I am feeling upset my poems are my closer and I express my anger and my feelings throughout them in a way I only would understand.
3. Do you ever feel you are trapped in your own house and always stuck with your six younger siblings?
No, most definitely not. I spend a lot of time outside, looking after our garden and playing hide-and-seek with the children.
4.Why do you love Alan Courtney when everyone describes him as not a very nice person?
There is just something about Alan that really draws my attention. He is just such a mysterious person and I am intrigued to find out more about him.
5. When Alan met with you and told you that he thinks Aldith MacCarthy isn't a nice person and a bad influence to you, how did this make you feel? I guess it hurt a bit. Having someone tell me that they don't like me because of the people I hang out with. Although in a way it actually made me a better person, as it made me realise that maybe she wasn't such a good friend after all. I think I didn't notice anything as I was secretly quite jealous of her. She is such a beautiful looking lady and draws all the boys attention I just envied her a little.
5 Facts:
1. The seven children and Esther all stop at Curlewis station on their way to Yarrahappini to visit Esther's parents. Curlewis was the name of Ethel's husband who she had a daughter with named Jean.
2. The first copy of the book ever published was named 'Seven Pickles'.
3. The original copy is held at at the State Library of NSW.
4. There are three sequels to the book; Little Mother Meg, Judy and Punch and The Family at Misrule.
5. Ethel Turner made sure when she wrote the book that not one of the seven children were perfect in any way, as she said purely because no young Australian child ever is nor ever will be.
Another Day Of Mourning - Creative Story
After the death of poor young Judy, the six of them went home again. The thick air of Yarrahappini seemed to crush them and hang heavy on their souls. So when the Captain, who had hurried to see the last of his poor little girl, asked if they would like to go home, they all said "Yes."
There was a green space of grass on a hilltop, behind the cottage, and a clump of wattle trees; this is where they left little Judy. Meg was glad the little mound looked to the east; where the sun died behind it, the orange, yellow and purple sun she could not bear to watch ever again while she lived. There was a moon, making it white and beautiful when they said goodbye to her on their last day. They picked a blade or two of fresh grass, and turned away. Nobody cried; the stillness of the moon held back their tears till they had closed the little gate behind them, and left her alone, on the quiet hilltop. They went back to Misrule, each to pickup the thread of life, and go on with the journey ahead.
This journey ahead was not at all the same since young Judy was no longer around. All the children were devastated, and Captain didn’t ever leave his room since. He just sat there, staring out the window. Pip especially, had the most trouble processing it all. He was very angry with Captain and was putting the blame on him. Poor Esther didn’t know how to act. She had just been frantically running around keeping the house clean. Not because the house was at all messy, just to keep her mind off everything. And not to forget The General, who had been constantly whining and spitting out words along the lines of “Wen Jdy hom?”
Everyone had been separate, away in his or her own private spot, thinking all day, of course about poor Judy. The only time the family ever ought to come together at once is when they ate their tea at the dining table. But even then it was as silent as a dead cave thousands of meters underground. Everybody’s mind was wracked with thoughts. Everyone had a very different way of grieving; especially in the Misrule household.
Other than the fact that the family was devastated, all else was well. Alan Courtney had been coming frequently to the house to see Meg, to comfort her after her young sisters passing. He being there, and caring so much, flattered Meg, as her crush on him had not at all faded. Though she was pushing him away. She said to the young man, “I could never get into a relationship at this present time. Not after what has happened to young Judy. I have to be with my family right now.” Young Alan, who was actually three years older than Meg, took in what Meg said, and had not been visiting as much.
Meg mentioned that she had to be with her family right now, which she had most certainly not been doing. She had been sitting in her armchair in her lonesome room, which was now all hers, seeing her sister is gone. She felt a sense of guilt, as when Judy was around Meg used to constantly whinge about sharing a room with her younger sister, and the fact that she was the oldest and most mature, in which case she deserved a room all to herself. Now she had finally got what she wanted and regretted it immensely.
The day of young Judy’s funeral had finally arrived. The day that the family was forced to come together, that is, out of their hibernation of course. The morning was as dreadful as any other. The family united at the table to eat breakfast, though this breakfast was far from ordinary. The six children sat there in silence, grieving. After breakfast Esther helped all the children get dressed for the service. Pip and Bunty wore suits with pale blue ties and Nellie and Meg wore beautiful blue frocks. They wore blue, as it was indeed young Judy’s favorite colour.
As the dogcarts arrived outside Misrule, the family made their way to the gate. Captain, Pip, Bunty and Baby were escorted into one; Esther, Meg, Nellie and The General in the other. Then away into the dawn they went.
The trip took 0ver 4 hours. Though throughout this long time, not one child said a word.
When they arrived at the church, hundreds of people were there staring at the distressed family. The General broke out into tears, so Esther took him away to settle. The family made their way into the church and sat awkwardly waiting for the service to start.
Nellie and Meg sat next to each other, with their hands clenched together ever-so-tightly. Aldith was a few pews away, smiling coquettish glances across to the Courtney’s pew. Meg had grown so far away from her! It seemed years since she had seen her!
Alan looked at Meg from his pew: the broad figure in its black suit, the shining hair hanging, no longer frizzed at the end, the sadness of those enormous blue eyes. He clasped her hand when the service was over; his eyes, with ever-so-slight-tears in them, made up for the clumsy stumbling words of sympathy, he tried to speak.
"Let us be friends, always, Miss Meg," he said, as they parted at the Misrule gate.
"Yes, let us," said Meg. “And Alan – perhaps, in time, more?”
And the firm handshake, after time, did indeed become a beautiful thing in both their lives, strengthening Meg, and making the boy gentler.
Pip became his laughing, high-spirited self again; although he used to get sudden fits of depression at times, and disappear all at once, in to a game of cricket or football, or from the table when the noise was high.
Bunty stayed his usual self, but did not tell quite so many stories these days; whenever he felt inclined to say, "I never, 'twasn't me, 'twasn't my fault," the thought of his beautiful sister came to his mind.
Baby, Nell and The General, all seemed to grow bigger every day, staying their usual happy selves.
The Captain never smoked at the end of the side veranda now; the overgrown lawn made him always see, a little figure in a pink frock mowing the grass in the blazing sunlight. Judy's death made his six children dearer to his heart, though he showed his affection very little more.
Script - After Judy's death
Setting:
Captain Woolcot and Esther are sitting outside on a small bench by the Parramatta River. The sun is shining, however not reaching them as the bench is in front of a thick forest-like garden. There are small weeds that have grown around the chair, this making it look quite old and weak. There are birds chirping in the tree above them. The two are looking out to the distance; although they are not speaking, they know exactly what each other are thinking. A figure is walking toward them from the distance. They make the figure out to be a man, tall, broad, wearing a suit. As he approaches they sit more upright in their seats. He is an obituary writer from the Daily Telegraph.
Esther: Good morning sir. How might you be on this beautiful day?
Writer: Very well, thank you. How could you not be when the birds are chirping, the Parramatta river is flowing and the sun is shining. [Glances at Esther] How are you Mrs Woolcot?
Captain: [Esther opens her mouth to speak, then Captain cuts her off] I don’t intend to be rude, but what business do you have being on my premises?
Writer: [threatened] Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. My name is Martin Perry. [Martin pauses, then stumbles on his words leading into next sentence] I-I-I am a writer from the Daily Telegraph. I am here to write an obituary on young Judy. What a terrible loss it was. All my condolences are with you.
Esther: Yes, indeed it was, and still is a tragic event. The loss of our dear young Judy will leave a scar on our family for as long as we live.
[Pause. Esther looks down, hiding her emotions]
Captain: Well, if we must do this obituary; let’s get on with it. Quickly, before Esther becomes too emotional. [Esther glances at Captain in dismay, then looks at writer]
Writer: Yes, of course sir. Just before I start, may I ask that you please answer honestly? I only say this in your respect, as I do not want false information published.
Captain: [Snappy] And why do you think we would lie? She was our daughter and dear to our hearts. If you do not trust us to be truthful you may leave now.
Writer: [Stumbles on his words] Oh, I-I’m so sorry, I mean not to offend you. It is just protocol to state that before an interview. I trust you completely.
Esther: Needn’t worry. John has been quite snappy lately. We know you mean well. Shall we continue with the interview?
Writer: Yes, of course. May I start off by asking, how exactly did young Judy pass?
Captain: A tree fell on her. She died a while later.
Esther: [glances at Captain] We were at my parent’s home, in Yarrahappini. The children had left in the early hours of the morning with Mr. Gillet. They were going horse riding. I didn’t hear from them all day. Later I saw Pip running towards the house screaming. I was told young Judy was crushed by a tree. [Looks down]
Writer: Thank you, Mrs Woolcot. May I ask another question?
Captain: [frustrated] Hurry up will you. What is it that you must ask?
Writer: Do you think Judy’s illness before her passing contributed to her lack of strength once being crushed by the tree?
Esther: What a cruel question! Judy was fully recovered when I allowed her to travel to Yarrahappini, and in no way would I have allowed her out that morning if she was still weak.
Captain: [interrupting] No, her illness could not have, not unless the doctor was lying to us about her state. She was a healthy young girl who could not have fought the circumstance.
Writer: Thank you. Furthermore, how do you think Judy will be remembered in the Misrule?
Esther: Obviously through her belongings, her room, her photos, the objects of which she touched. This house in itself holds many memories and stories of which made up almost her whole life.
[pause]
Captain: I can still picture her just over there [glances over to in front of the verandah, the lawn] I had just punished the children and forbidden them from going to the Pantomime. So they all came together and decided to complete odd jobs to hopefully get on my good side. Judy decided to cut the lawn, I can still picture it. [smiles] The scythe was too heavy for her little, delicate body, so despite her efforts she was creating more damage to the flowers than to the lawn. I couldn’t help but smile, but then had to stop her because it was becoming unsafe.
Writer: Thank you. Is there anything specific that you would you like me to include in the obituary?
Esther: Write that she was a beautiful young girl, and write that she was too young, this shouldn’t of happened to her. [Looks to ground and eyes become watery]
Captain: [Glances at Esther, realizing she cannot continue] Despite all this misbehavior, she was beautiful and meant well. Even though she did aggravate me, now that she is gone I wish I had gotten to know her better. [Pauses] You know what, I think this interview is finished.
Esther: John. [Glances at captain]
Captain: No Esther. He has gotten enough information and may now leave. Would you like me to show you to the gate?
Writer: [intimidated] No. That won’t be necessary sir. I am very sorry if I have offended you. Have a nice day. Oh, and thank you for the interview. I will do my best in writing this to the standard you deserve. [Starts to walk away]
Esther: [subtly] Your welcome.
The Scarlet Pimpernel - Creative Story
As I entered the outskirts of the castle, a million thoughts and shivers rushed through my body. It was a completely different surrounding to what I am use to. I don’t even know why I am coming here today. Mum said something about how she wanted me to watch the prisoners get executed; she thought it would be good for me to see. Me on the other hand am not so keen. I don’t understand how anyone could enjoy watching innocent people be killed in such an inhumane way. How could anyone be so excited and keen to watch such a horrific thing?
It is a brighter day than usual, but still cold and frosty as always on a winter day here in Paris. Mum and I walked through the large archway, soldiers watching us as we enter. The castle is so beautiful. It is made from large brick or concrete slabs, and on the wall is a large clock ticking loudly. We walk towards a large group of people, all crowded around a guillotine, and I am thinking maybe it is not so beautiful after all. I was hesitant to hold back and tell mum I wanted to go home, but she pushed through the crowd to get to the front. After standing for a few minutes I noticed a sensational smell of food coming from a near distance. I think it might have been pork, or possibly horse or mutton. I’m not sure but it definitely made me hungry. It is quite an early morning for me, so I have not yet had breakfast. I held my arms on each side as most people do when they are cold. Mum pulled me close to her to keep me warm. I felt the warmth from her body instantly rush through mine. Mum and I are very close; we have lived together on our own since I was three years old, after my dad died.
I heard the noise of the horse’s hooves hitting the cold concrete ground. I knew who was coming; the prisoners, on their journey to death. A horse pulling a tumbril pulled up right next to the guillotine. Three soldiers wearing red, white and black uniforms came from the crowd and grabbed a man and brutally pulled him from the tumbril I saw the look on his face; lost and depressed, as though all hope had been sucked out of him. The same way mine would like if I were in his position. His head was forced into the holder ready for the guillotine to drop down and take his life away. I had to look away. But the noise still blows through my eardrums. A soldier holds the innocent mans head up high, dripping with blood, and shouts, “Long live the republic!” and “Death to the aristos!” I don’t really understand what that means but I look like I pretend I do, so I don’t get in trouble. The crowd is shouting and holding their fists high in the air with excitement, including mum. I wonder to myself; how can she enjoy this? My own mother. Doesn’t she have a heart? Doesn’t anyone here? Or is everyone here just a bunch of insensitive, cold-blooded monsters? Another person is tugged out of the tumbril, this time a lady. Once again I look away but I notice someone behind me eying me off suspiciously. I turn back around and pretend I am enjoying watching this murder.
The smell of blood rushes up my nose making me feel sick. I ask mum if I can go and get a drink but she can’t hear me over the loud drums and voices screaming. Under my feet I can feel the blood flowing down towards the drain. There is so much of it, everywhere, especially in the basket filled with hay. I wonder to myself why hay? What are they cows?
I feel a sense of freedom and guilt for the fact that I’m here watching them die as they’re watching me; seeing how free I am. I want to stop this and apologize to them. The fact that they are being killed is bad enough, but being killed as part of a ‘show’ for an audience is disgustingly wrong. No human ever deserves to die this way.